


A huntin' we will go.

by RedStarFiction



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction





	A huntin' we will go.

Brianna had resisted the idea of Jem learning how to use a gun until his eleventh birthday. She still thought he was a little young but had internally yielded to Roger’s reasoning that they were not living in a time where shooting was a recreational sport alone and that Jem needed to be able to hunt. Still, she had not allowed Roger or Jamie to buy him a gun for his birthday and had let the matter drop, hoping that Roger might do the same.  
They were sat around her parent’s kitchen table one evening shortly after Jem’s birthday when Roger brought it up again.  
“It’s important Bree. I don’t like the thought of him not being able to use a gun now that he goes off with Germain and the other lads.”  
“Well they shouldn’t be anywhere that the necessity to shoot comes up!”  
Bree countered and Jamie snorted  
“Aye, weel that may be true but I wouldna count on it.”  
“If I can’t count on it, I’ll ground him until I can!”  
Bree quipped and narrowed her eyes at her father as he rolled his eyes. Jamie had never fully grasped the concept of grounding the children. In his mind a hiding that was over quickly or a hungry belly for the night was a much more rational way of dealing with things than having Jem sulking around the house for days and he had said so on more than one occasion.  
“All the same darling, it would be better if Jem could protect himself if ever it is necessary.”  
Claire reasoned, using the particular tone of voice she reserved for the stubborn redheads in her life. She had tried the same tone on Mandy and it had not even come close to working, apparently she had inherited the Fraser stubbornness *and* the Beauchamp intolerance for nonsense.  
“Mmmphhm.”  
Bree hunched over her tea and Claire gave Roger a warning look as he opened his mouth, subtly pressing her finger to her lips. They waited in silence a few moments more but finally Bree nodded to herself and sat up.  
“Alright, but he is not having his own gun.”  
“Fine.”  
Roger agreed, trying to keep any trace of smugness from his voice.   
“And Mandy gets to learn when she turns eleven too.”  
Bree addressed this to her father and Jamie shrugged  
“I think …”  
Claire hastily cleared her throat and cut him off  
“Agreed. Now, I have left over cake on the cusp of going stale …”  
She beamed brightly around the table at them all. Jamie placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, rebuke or thanks Claire couldn’t tell and had to admit she didn’t care. When it came to keeping the peace at the Ridge she was more adept than most!   
“I’ll fetch it Sassenach, ye stay put.”  
Jamie returned with a somewhat more depleted platter of cake than Claire remembered leaving in the larder and she accusingly brushed a few stray crumbs from his beard making sure to give him the smallest of the remaining pieces, which made him laugh aloud.  
“Jamie, I was just saying, I canna really teach Jem to shoot. All he’d learn from me is how to decapitate a bush and blame the gun,”  
Roger grinned guiltily and Bree patted his arm but couldn’t exactly protest.  
“I was wondering if ye would take him out for his first hunt?”   
Jamie sat forward in his chair, the rest of his cake forgotten  
“Och no, a lad’s first hunt should be wi’ his father! I wouldna deprive ye o’ that Roger Mac!”  
He demurred but Claire could see the excitement on his face and his ears had flushed slightly at the prospect.  
“Well aye, if his father is a half-way decent shot, but I’m not.”  
“I’m a pretty good shot …”  
Bree began but felt her husband’s foot press lightly down on her own and fell silent  
“If ye dinna wish to do it I can give it my best but …”  
“Och! Och no, I mean … it would be a pleasure but are ye sure ye dinna wish to at least …try? Ye are no’ so bad as ye used to be and …”  
“Da!”  
Bree glared at her father, eyes wide and Jamie cleared his throat embarrassed  
“I didna mean any offence to ye Roger Mac, I apologise.”  
Roger shoved a piece of cake into his mouth and grinned at Jamie through it.  
“None taken. So,”  
He leant back in his chair, slightly enjoying having the upper hand with his father in-law for once  
“Will ye teach ye grandson how to shoot or no’?”  
“Aye, I will.”  
Jamie said happily, grinning from ear to ear.  
*  
Later that night as they lay curled together in bed, Bree nudged her head up under Roger’s chin and kissed his chest  
“That was really kind of you, you know?”  
“You mean wi’ Jem and the hunting?”  
“Yeah. I hadn’t thought it would mean so much to Da but he looked like all his Christmas’ had come at once.”  
“Aye, well he never got to teach ye did he? Or his son. I ken what it would mean to him because I ken what it means to me to teach Jem about the things I love.”  
Bree hugged him tightly and turned her face up to kiss his mouth  
“I love you Roger Mackenzie.”  
She smiled.  
“Aye, and now I think your father might too.”  
Bree laughed and slapped his shoulder as he ducked his head to her, grinning in the darkness.  
*  
Jamie and Jem had set out early, partly because Jamie felt it would give them enough time to practice and partly because Claire had not been able to tolerate much more of his excited fidgeting and fussing which had begun just after five o’clock in the morning.   
Bree had stood beside her mother waving them off and Jem had offered her one last wave at the edge of the woods before turning his full attention to his grandfather, allowing the women to retreat gratefully back into the warmth of the house.  
Jamie covered the basic safety instructions first and helped Jem learn to check, prime and load the weapon.  
He felt slightly guilty that he had accepted Roger’s offer so eagerly but more than anything he felt overjoyed to be sharing this moment with his grandson. Jem was already familiar with the basics, he had watched Jamie and Bree many times, but Jamie wanted to make sure. If the lad shot himself in the foot or some such Brianna would never forgive him.  
“Above all else, ye never point a gun at something or someone ye are not prepared to kill, Jeremiah. That isna a rule ye keep for fear of punishment, it is one ye keep out of decency.”  
Jamie said and smiled at the earnest frown that creased Jem’s brow as he clutched the gun to his chest, nodding quickly, blue eyes fixed on Jamie intently.  
“Aye Grandda.”  
They spent nearly an hour going through the process of aiming and firing, Jamie crouched beside Jem tweaking his grip and his stance until the boy got impatient and asked when he was actually going to be allowed to fire the darn thing?  
“Ye can fire it when ye can hold it properly. Now, move ye left hand further down the shaft …”  
Jamie instructed and then stood a small log up twenty paces from Jem.  
“Right, see if ye can hit that.”  
Jem adjusted his aim, checked his mechanism and gently squeezed the trigger. The report of the shot reached Jamie’s ears a split second before the log toppled over, a small, smoking hole in its centre.  
“Ha! Good shot lad!”  
He beamed and Jem grinned almost shyly back. Jamie set up a variety of things, varying in size, finishing with an apple that Jem shot clean through on his first attempt.  
“Ah diah! Well done mo tapaidh bhalaich!”  
Jamie was beside himself with pride and seized Jem in a hug that stole the breath from the boys lungs  
“Grandda!”  
Jem croaked and Jamie set him down, grinning guiltily.   
“Och, aye, sorry! Jem ye’re a natural at this!”  
“Can we hunt now?”  
Jem asked, eyes flashing with excitement.  
“Aye, I dinna see why not!”  
Jamie grinned and Jem let out a whoop of glee  
“I want to shoot a stag so I can ha’ the antlers o’er my bed like Germain.”  
Jamie ruffled his hair and nodded  
“Aye, ye deserve it. Let’s see if we can find one.”  
Jamie knew he was being a wee bit indulgent with the boy but the truth was that he was enjoying himself probably more than even Jem was. He had never had the opportunity to teach his children to shoot or really do anything at all, although he had encouraged Willie with the horses…   
“Come on Grandda!”  
Jem called and Jamie realised his grandson had disappeared into the woods without him  
“Aye, wait for me …”  
He shouted back and plunged into the foliage in keeping an eye out for Jem’s brightly bobbing head.   
*  
They spotted the stag some time later and as they crouched in the undergrowth Jamie could feel Jem trembling beside him.  
“Easy Jem, breath steady.”  
Jamie murmured softly and rested his hand lightly on the boys quivering forearm.  
The stag was magnificent; Jem had never been so close to a live one before. It was perhaps twelve feet away, its head bowed low as it nibbled the grass, huge antlers arching gracefully overhead.  
“He’s beautiful.”  
Jem whispered and Jamie nodded  
“Aye, a fine beast. Slowly now …”  
Jamie helped Jem silently raise the gun and then edged behind him to help him gauge the shot. Sunlight filtered through the trees and a single bird called out somewhere in the distance, Jem had never experienced such tranquillity and as he took it all in, his breathing slowed to a controlled, gentle rhythm.  
“Good,”  
Jamie whispered,  
“Aim for his heart, ye want a good clean kill to save him any suffering.”  
Jem squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, everything springing into focus, sharp and clear. He looked down the barrel, marking the spot his grandfather had instructed but found that he had no desire to pull the trigger.  
Sweat prickled his forehead and as Jem brushed it away the stag looked up, sensing his movement. His eyes locked with Jem’s and behind him Jamie held his breathe.  
Jem had never seen such eyes; they were so huge and dark, like looking into a well. They weren’t just the flat, dead eyes of animals Jem had seen his mother and grandfather bring home after a kill; they contained a gentleness that he had not expected. The stag blinked and his ears twitched, wary of danger and Jem felt his breakfast creep up his throat at the thought that he was the danger.  
“Just like we practiced Jem, take ye time…”  
The noise from the shot sent previously silent birds shooting into the air, angrily calling out their displeasure and the stag startled, then vanished into the forest.  
Jem lowered the gun and slowly stood and turned to face his grandfather. Jamie had rocked back onto his heels when Jem had fired so unexpectedly, only just keeping his balance; now he was standing and eyeing Jem with a carefully blank expression.   
“I missed.”  
Jem shrugged, not meeting Jamie’s eyes.  
“Aye. Spectacularly too!”  
Jamie cocked an eyebrow at him and pointed to a branch in a near-by tree which was half hanging off.  
“Sorry Grandda.”  
Jem felt close to tears and wiped his sleeve under his nose, his bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. Jamie clucked his tongue against his teeth and plucked the gun out of Jem’s hands, leaning it against a shrub. Jamie pulled his grandson into his arms, enfolding him gently and letting Jem bury his face in the soft wool of Jamie’s shirt, smoothing his hair and murmuring quiet endearments whilst the lad regained him composure.   
“Ye didna want to kill him, did ye?”  
Jamie asked softly when Jem had quieted to the occasional snuffle. Jem pulled himself upright and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.  
“I couldn’t do it Grandda. It seemed … it seemed wrong. He was so beautiful and so … alive.”  
Jem looked up at Jamie in despair   
“I couldn’t kill him just to have a pair of antlers over my bed; it felt like if I did that, then I might never sleep well again.”  
Jamie looked at his grandson thoughtfully.  
“Then I am proud of ye for doing what ye felt was right.”  
Jem shook his head  
“You don’t have to say that Grandda, I know I disappointed you.”  
Jamie smiled grimly   
“I dinna say things I dinna mean Jeremiah, just ask ye Grannie!”  
Jem laughed, though he didn’t know exactly what his grandfather was referring to.   
“I am proud of ye Jem, it takes courage to stick to ye own convictions especially wi’ someone behind ye watchin’. Ye did right mo naoidheachan.”  
Jem grinned shyly and plucked a leaf to blow his nose on, a habit he had picked up from his uncle Ian. Jamie laughed and offered him his handkerchief when it didn’t work as cleanly as Jem had hoped and the last of the remaining tension left them.  
Jamie reached inside his jacket and produced a small flask which he held before Jem reverently.  
“Now then, when I completed my first hunt my father raised this toast to me and now I raise it to you: Jeremiah Alexander Ian Fraser Mackenzie, ye have acquitted yeself well today and conquered a beast using ye own skill and judgement. I invite ye to share my drink and I raise a toast to ye!”  
With that Jamie took a small swallow and offered the flask to Jem who took it gingerly, the smell of whiskey filling his nostrils and stinging his eyes.  
“But I didn’t conquer any beast.”  
“Aye ye did. A man’s uncertainty with his own choices is one o’ the greatest beasts he can conquer.” Jamie said firmly and tapped the flask.  
“Drink.”  
He commanded and Jem took a tentative sip, his eyes flaring wide. He swallowed hard and gasped  
“Infrin!”  
Jamie grinned and reclaimed possession of the flask, tucking it safely back in his pocket.   
“Ye get used to it.”  
*  
When they got back to the house Claire was outside feeding the chickens   
“No deer today?”  
She smiled, wiping her hands on her apron. Jem hunched his shoulders a little  
“Aye, there was Grannie, but I couldn’t kill it.”  
“No? Well that makes two of us sweetheart. I have never been able to hunt for sport.”  
Claire wrapped an arm around Jem’s shoulders and kissed his forehead.  
“There is nothing wrong with being a gentle soul Jem.”  
She glanced at Jamie over the top of Jem’s head and raised her eyebrows. Jamie shrugged to convey his lack of concern over the issue and smiled at them both.  
“Come inside and tell me what happened then.”  
Claire guided Jem towards the kitchen door and Jamie watched them go. Before they went out that morning he hadn’t thought about the fact that Jem might not be able to kill an animal, he had just presumed that he would do it, the way he had done it as a lad.   
Jamie felt hope flutter in his heart at the thought that Jem might be different from him, to be a man of reason and strength of character without also being a man of violence. A chance to live a life of peace and keep a clean soul … Aye, Jamie thought, that would be a verra fine thing indeed.


End file.
